


Medium Mean

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Do Handcuffs Even Count As Kinky? [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Biting, Frotting, Handcuffs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Podfic Welcome, awkward conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 07:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16280108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: So it turns out that Ryan knows more about handcuffs than one would think.





	Medium Mean

“Huh,” said Shane. 

Ryan looked up - that was the kind of “huh” that could mean anything from “I have just stabbed myself in the foot with a rusty nail” to “what was the name of the actor who played the dancing lady with the speech impediment in _Blazing Saddles_?” and it wasn’t always obvious what he was indicating. 

“What’s up?”

Ryan tried not to look like he was scanning around for blood, and failed horribly.

“What are you so worried about?”

Shane grinned at him, pausing as he rooted around in the cardboard box on his desk. 

“These were in the Try Guy’s prop locker. They left it behind.”

He was dangling a pair of purple furry handcuffs off of one finger - they clacked when he shook them gently. 

Ryan squinted at them, and then he rolled his eyes. 

“Those are crap,” he told Shane. 

“Huh?”

Shane looked surprised.

“Those are crap,” Ryan said again, and he gestured for Shane to hand the handcuffs over. 

Shane did so. 

“Yeah, look at this. The metal is plated, so it’ll rub off pretty easily, and you could completely wriggle out of them.”

“No way,” said Shane. 

“Totally,” said Ryan. “Gimme your wrists.”

“There is no way I’m going to let you handcuff me,” said Shane. “What if I get stuck?”

“You can’t get stuck in these crap handcuffs,” Ryan scoffed. “Here, watch.”

He put the handcuffs on himself, and he rotated his wrists in them, wriggling his fingers. 

These handcuffs were so shit that they didn’t even wake up the familiar twist in his stomach he usually got, beyond the familiar enjoyment of being confined in any way. 

“We don’t have the keys for those,” Shane pointed out. “If you’re stuck in that, we’ve gotta get bolt cutters.”

“We don’t need bolt cutters,” Ryan groused, and wriggled some more, shifting with his thumbs.

He found the little catches, and they sprang open.

“See?”

He handed the handcuffs back.

Shane looked at him, faintly surprised. 

“How’d you know all of that?”

“Oh, y’know,” Ryan said, and realized for the first time that maybe he had tipped his hand a bit too… obviously. 

… shit. 

Shane leaned back into his seat, his arms crossed across his chest, the handcuffs dangling from one hand. 

“You know how I’m into David Blaine? I studied that stuff.” 

Shane raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t look convinced.

“... stop looking at me like that,” said Ryan. 

“Like what?”

Shane leaned in, his elbows on his upper thighs.

“Like… like that,” mumbled Ryan. 

“Well,” said Shane, “good talk.” 

He seemed to be going red around the ears, and Ryan had a bit of an anxious moment. 

Was Shane mad at him? Did Shane think that he was mad at him?

Shit.

“Shane?”

“Mm?”

“I’m not, like, angry or anything,” said Ryan.

Shane raised both eyebrows now. 

“I didn’t think you were,” he told Ryan. “But thanks for that.”

_Great. I made it worse._

“You… you okay?”

“Ryan, I don’t care if you do weird kinky shit or just handcuff yourself underwater to practice becoming the next David Blaine. It’s all good. I promise.”

“Right,” said Ryan, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry.” 

“Oh my god, Ryan,” said Shane, and he patted Ryan on the shoulder. “It’s fine. It’s great. It’s amazing. I promise.” 

“You don’t have to say all of _that_ ,” Ryan grumbled.

“Does it make you feel better?”

“It makes me feel better,” said Ryan. “So what’s in the box?”

“Just a bunch of stuff from the Try Guy’s prop locker. Zach said anyone could have what was in it, but I got first dibs, since I gathered it all up.”

“Oh,” said Ryan. “Anything weird in there?”

“Other than the handcuffs?”

“You could get those handcuffs at a Spencer’s Gifts. That doesn’t make them weird, that just makes ‘em shocking for middle aged housewives.”

Shane rolled his eyes.

“You gotta show me some proper handcuffs some time,” Shane said, and his tone was teasing.

Ryan blushed. 

It wasn’t that he… hadn’t thought about it, per se.

But he thought of everyone in his life in handcuffs, because that kink of his was just that ingrained.

That’s what he got from watching Titanic at a formative age, and that _one_ scene with the handcuffs, and, well…. 

“I’ll do that,” Ryan said, and then he was shoving his headphones into his ears, eyes fixed on his computer screen, beginning to type.

He needed to not think about Shane in handcuffs right now - Shane in handcuffs, his arms over his head, his long torso on display, maybe some leg irons as well, chaining his ankles together, keeping him in place, the metal shiny and silver against his pale skin….

Ryan bit back a groan, and he covered his face with both hands.

Oh god.

Now he was thinking about this too hard.

Okay.

Time to get serious. 

He turned up his music, and he began to type again, with renewed vigor. 

* * *

Ryan didn’t think too hard about the handcuff thing for a few days.

… no, that was a lie, he jerked off so hard that he got himself in the chin with his own jizz to the image of Shane in chains, moaning and begging to be taken, to be _used_. 

But he’d washed his… well, everything, and then he put it out of his mind.

So Shane knew some weird things about his personal life.

Ryan knew a few things about Shane - things like the time Shane shit his pants on camera, which meant they had mutually assured destruction, if it came down to it. 

… not that he was thinking of it like that, but still.

Sometimes the insides of his head got a bit worrisome. 

But now he and Shane were sitting next to each other at the park, watching people and eating burritos.

It had been Shane’s idea - “we’ve been nose to the grindstone all week, let’s go watch the dogs in the park and eat burritos after work.”

And here they were.

“So,” said Shane, “what makes good handcuffs versus bad handcuffs?”

Ryan tried not to start coughing. 

Oh _god_.

“What?”

“Good handcuffs versus bad handcuffs,” said Shane. “What’s the difference? I mean, I assume some of it is make and material, obviously.” 

“Um,” said Ryan. 

“Are there, like, standards or something?” 

“Well, _obviously_ there are standards. There are standards about everything.” 

“Fair,” said Shane. “So, tell me what makes a good pair of handcuffs.”

“Well,” said Ryan. “Uh, how… how good they are at keeping someone in place, mainly. How much movement they allow, stuff like that.”

“Do you look that stuff up, before you buy a new pair? Like, go on handcuff enthusiast forums arguing over… hinged versus chained, or something?”

Shane was clearly amused.

Ryan had a boner and was blushing hard enough that he was a bit worried he’d pass out.

He took a big bite out of his burrito. 

“There are, uh… different groups. There’s magicians, and there’s law enforcement. You know.”

“Right,” said Shane. “Which do you follow?”

Ryan shrugged.

“I… range around,” said Ryan, because how was he going to say that he hung out on fetishy forums? 

“So you don’t just hang out on, like, pervert spots?”

Ryan cleared his throat, and he rubbed his hands together. 

“I’ve been… known to go to them,” he said, and then… fuck it. 

Might as well be straightforward. 

“I’ve got a handcuff kink. I think they’re sexy, I’d even go so far that, uh… that they’re a major interest of mine. And since they’re a major interest of mine, well, uh… I know a lot about them.”

“Oh,” said Shane.

“Right,” said Ryan. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Being awkward.”

Shane shrugged.

“We should be comfortable with awkward by now, considering how much we do it at this point.”

“If we’re used to it by now, it’d stop being awkward, wouldn’t it?”

“That was pretty clever,” said Shane. 

“I can be clever,” Ryan said, defensively.

“Well,” said Shane, and now he looked faintly uncomfortable, “since, uh… since I’ve shared some of my weird interests with you, you can… you can share yours. My interests in history, or… y’know, stuff like that”

Shane was staring rather pointedly ahead, and he was blushing to the ears. 

“... what?”

“We do Ruining History, which is something that is all about my interests, but I don’t do your sports conspiracies, and I know a lot of the time I don’t really… well, I _can’t_ take your weird shit seriously, since it’s all so stupid -”

“Gee, thanks,” Ryan said, his voice flat.

“But this isn’t stupid. It’s just… y’know, stuff. Kinky stuff.”

“So you… want to do more sports conspiracies with me?”

This was getting confusing. 

“Well, no,” said Shane. “Because I don’t like sports. But it’s not… fair.”

“Shane,” said Ryan, “we’re buddies. We don’t have to share interests like we’re entering into a transaction or whatever.”

Then light dawned, understanding filling Ryan’s mind like the sun. 

“Wait,” said Ryan, “are you trying to do some kind of roundabout proposition?”

Shane was still turning red.

“Oh my god,” said Ryan, and now he was laughing - ugly laughing, leaning back on the bench, throwing his head back as he laughed up at the sky. “You’re actually trying to hit on me like that. Holy fuck.” 

“Shut up,” Shane said, and he leaned back, covering his face with both hands. “You jerk. You’re just… better than me at this shit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

“It means that how am I supposed to say, “hey, try the whole handcuff thing on me?” without coming off as some kind of weirdo?”

Shane sounded legitimately upset, and that made Ryan snicker.

“Calm down, big guy,” he told Shane, and he elbowed him in the ribs. “What are you freaking out about?”

“You’re my best friend, business partner, co-host, popcorn buddy, Hot Daga tormentee….”

“Hot Daga tormentee? Really? That needs a… role?”

“It totally does,” said Shane. “You know it.”

“Whatever,” said Ryan. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s… you’re my friend,” said Shane. “I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got.”

“You think me handcuffing you would ruin what we’ve got? Or… you handcuffing me, I guess, if that’s what you’re interested in.”

“But… you know, don’t bring sex into a working partnership, that kinda thing.”

Shane gestured with one of his big hands, and Ryan’s eyes followed the line of Shane’s arm - from the tips of his fingers to his long hands, to his bony wrists.

If Ryan was going to cuff him, he’d probably have to use one of the bigger ones, at least at first.

Tighter handcuffs were a bit difficult for the newbie. 

“So you’re thinking of sex?” 

Ryan tried to keep his tone calm, tried to seem casual.

His heart was beating very loudly in his ears.

“Well, yeah,” said Shane. “You said, uh… you said that it was a kink for you. I wouldn’t want to just… cocktease you. If you’re gonna handcuff me, I might as well help you get off, right?”

“You don’t… _have_ to do that,” said Ryan, as discomfort began to worm its way through his stomach. “I mean, if you just wanna try it, you don’t have to do shit -”

“But I want to do shit,” Shane said, and now his voice was quiet - quiet enough that Ryan had to lean in to hear it. 

“When you say “shit” do you just mean… stuff?”

They were being too euphemistic, but Ryan didn’t know how to _stop_.

“I mean,” Shane said, and he leaned in, so that he was speaking directly in Ryan’s ear, “that if you want to put me in handcuffs and then make out with me or fuck me or cover me in paint, I’d be game.”

“Oh,” squeaked Ryan.

It was an actual squeak, too, and he’d be embarrassed, if he had any blood left in his brain to remember how. 

“Although if you’re gonna cover me in paint, could you maybe make sure it’s not, like, oil paint?”

“Oil paint is fucking expensive,” said Ryan. “I don’t wanna know how expensive it’d be to cover your lanky ass in it.”

“So just my ass is lanky?”

Shane was smirking.

Ryan didn’t even need to see Shane’s face to know Shane was smirking. 

“For fuck sake,” Ryan groaned, and he flopped back into his bench, covering his face with both hands. “You are such a brat.”

“Well, yeah,” said Shane. “How are you not realizing this?”

“I should have seen it earlier,” said Ryan, his tone flat. “You’re a total brat. It’s totally obvious.”

“Is it?”

Shane put his hands behind his head, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“Well,” said Ryan, “if you know what to look for.”

“And do you?”

“Do I?”

“Do you know what to look for?”

Shane seemed to be listening especially… intently.

“Well,” said Ryan, “I like to think I do. Although I haven’t used this particular… lens with you before.”

“No?” 

Shane looked surprised. 

“No,” said Ryan. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

“... huh,” said Shane. 

“Why, have you looked at me through that lens?”

That was unexpected. 

“Yeah,” Shane said, and he was blushing now. “I’ve been, uh… using that lens for a while.”

“The me putting you in handcuffs lens? Or just the you doing… that kind of thing. Or me doing that kind of thing. Anyone doing any kind of thing, with each other. You know?”

“Basically, yeah,” said Shane.

… enough obfuscating.

“Are you saying that you’ve had a crush on me, or just that you’ve thought of me in a sexy way?”

“Bit of column A, bit of column B,” said Shane, his expression rueful. “I’m, uh… I didn’t picture it happening like this.” 

“How did you imagine it happening?”

“... that I don’t know,” said Shane, and then he laughed. “I didn’t think that there would be any talk about handcuffs. I think that was a bit of a curveball.” 

“Look at you, using sports metaphors,” said Ryan. “I’m a bad influence.”

“Should I arrest you?”

Shane said it mildly, but his expression was sly.

“Oh… fuck you, Shane,” Ryan groused, and he glared at Shane.

Shane just smirked.

“We should… go back to my house,” said Ryan. “Since it’s getting dark.”

Shane raised an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t see you as afraid of the dark, Ry.”

“Are you kidding? You make jokes about me being afraid of the dark all the time!”

“I make jokes about you being afraid of ghosts,” said Shane. “Ghosts that you think are in the dark, admittedly, but still.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ryan groused, and he reached out, grabbing hold of Shane’s bony wrist.

He hadn’t even realized he’d done it, until… well, he’d done it.

Sure, he and Shane were touchy-feely, but this felt… this felt like a lot. 

Shane’s pulse was thundering under his finger, and Shane’s skin was warm. 

Ryan looked down at his own hand, then up at Shane’s face.

Shane kept the eye contact. 

“Well,” said Shane. “Shall we?”

“Let us,” said Ryan, from a long way off. 

* * * 

They didn’t kiss until they were inside of Ryan’s apartment. 

Sure, they'd agreed to do some fun kinky shit, but they'd agreed to do it while they were in the park.

And okay, so this was LA, so it wasn't as if Ryan was especially worried about someone reacting badly to the sight of the two of them kissing, but... still.

He was considered something like an E list celebrity, but there was always the off chance that the wrong person would see something, and then he'd be all over the various online equivalents of the tabloids, and who needed that, right?

And then they were in an Uber, and it'd be weird to have your first kiss with someone in an Uber, because that would just be weird.

And then there were cameras in the elevator to Ryan's apartment, and then they were in the hallway. 

But... now the two of them were standing in Ryan's front room, shuffling out of their shoes, and the two of them were just standing there.

"Um," said Shane, breaking the awkward silence.

"I know, right," said Ryan.

Shane seemed to find that to be the funniest thing ever, because he started to snicker, then to chuckle, then to full on laugh, an ugly, guffawing laugh.

" _What_?!"

Ryan tried not to sound too indignant - tried not to _be_ too indignant. 

Shane made eye contact, and he was still smiling, a whole face smile, the sides of his eyes crinkled up, and he was moving into Ryan's personal space, until he was cupping Ryan's face with his big hands, his thumbs gently pressing against Ryan's cheekbones, the tip of his middle finger in the hollow behind Ryan's earlobe.

Ryan stood on tiptoe, and he kissed Shane's laughing mouth, the vibrations making his teeth buzz. 

Shane deepened the kiss, and his tongue was stroking against the seam of Ryan's lips, his fingers sliding through Ryan's hair.

Ryan sighed into the kiss, as whatever tension that had been knotted up in his chest began to loosen.

God, how long had he wanted this?

He sighed again, a little harder this time, and he was pressing closer, until they were only separated by their t-shirts, by their own skin. 

He pulled back, panting, and they were pressed forehead to forehead, nose to nose.

"Oh," said Shane. 

"Yeah," said Ryan. 

"Have you been thinking about that? For a while, I mean. That had some desperation in it. Not, like, back from the war levels of desperation, but at least I've-been-thinking-about-it levels of desperation." 

Shane looked ruffled, his lips a little swollen, his eyes a little glassy in the overhead light. 

"I've honestly been thinking about handcuffing you longer," said Ryan, too far gone to even be embarrassed, "but that's been up there."

"You really are a fetishist, huh?"

Shane looked faintly impressed. 

"Sorry," Ryan said, and he made to pull back.

Shane's hands moved to the back of his head, cradling the curve of Ryan's skull in his palms, the tips of his fingers burrowing into the hair at the top of Ryan's head. 

"Don't be," said Shane. "It's cute." 

"Y'think?"

"I mean," said Shane, "as far as single minded, fetishistic fixations go, you could do a lot worse than handcuffs."

"I guess you're right," said Ryan. "I could be into cake farting."

"... I think you killed my boner," said Shane. 

He made a face, his nose wrinkling up and his eyebrows furrowing together.

A line formed, right between Shane's eyebrows, and Ryan wanted to lean in and kiss it. 

"What, you had a boner already?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

"I mean," said Shane, "it's not like this is the culmination of who the fuck knows how much pining, to say nothing of the flirting we were doing at the park."

"Was that flirting?"

"I'd call it flirting," said Shane. "You were talking about putting me in handcuffs, and were pretty clearly turned on by it."

"Oh god," Ryan groaned. "I was obvious?"

"Ryan, I have seen you in almost every emotional permutation. If it's one I don't recognize, it's probably arousal. Unless it's some other emotion I haven't thought of, like the sensation when you've shook your dick off and a little bit of piss drips down your leg."

"... and you were complaining about _me_ killing _your_ boner," Ryan groused. 

"A thousand pardons," Shane said, and he leaned down, pressing a little kiss to the bridge of Ryan's nose, then to Ryan's mouth.

Ryan tugged on Shane's hips, his fingers hooked in Shane's belt loops, and he stood on tiptoe to kiss Shane properly, deeply, his tongue tracing across Shane's teeth, then sucking on Shane's tongue.

Shane's tongue was hot and wet, Shane's breath was warm, almost swampy, in that satisfying way you get when you kiss someone long and deep. 

When they pulled apart, Shane's eyes were dark, and he was licking his lips.

His hands were still in Ryan's hair, fingers tangled up. 

"Handcuffs?"

Ryan's voice broke.

"Right," said Shane. "How do you wanna do this?"

"Well," said Ryan, "um. How would you be comfortable?"

"It's your kink," said Shane. "I'm willing to do almost anything, if it'll get you off."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Shane," Ryan groaned, and he pressed his face into Shane's shoulder. 

He was shaking, just a bit.

"What?"

"You can't just... say that," Ryan mumbled. 

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not actually sorry," said Shane.

Ryan groaned.

"I'll forget about the leg irons this time," he said, and he grabbed Shane by the wrist, before he could lose his nerve. "Just cuffs. And... can I... I want to do things to you."

He was making his way towards the bedroom as he spoke, tugging Shane after him.

"Wait, you own _leg irons_? That's a thing that still exists in the twenty first century?!"

Shane was being pulled along, but he was going along with it.

... Shane was surprisingly biddable, and Ryan wasn't sure what to make of that.

Was Shane being biddable to lull Ryan into a false sense of security before pouncing, or was he actually this submissive?

The idea of being pounced on was, admittedly, appealing, but... okay.

One thing at a time. 

Ryan walked into his bedroom, and then he paused, to turn the light on, then to kiss Shane against the doorframe, kiss Shane until the both of them were red faced and breathless, close enough that Ryan could feel Shane’s racing heart.

"Take your shirt off," Ryan said pulling away with something like regret, and he was going to his closet, crouching down and pulling the trunk out from under all of his clothes.

"You hadn't answered my question about leg irons," said Shane, and there was a rustling noise - no doubt Shane taking his shirt off.

Ryan looked over his shoulder, and he tried not to gape.

That was a lot of very pale skin.

Shane was lanky, and that particular sort of shape you get when you have a skinny person heading towards middle aged spread. 

He was very pale, and he would have looked fucking _gorgeous_ covered in chains.

Oh god.

Ryan licked his lips, and then he was fumbling through his chest, trying to find the handcuffs he was thinking of.

"They exist," said Ryan. "I got a pair of 'em online."

"From what, a prison guard's supply store?"

"No," said Ryan, and he found the pair he was looking for, grabbing the metal, which rattled in his hand.

The cold metal gave him shivers, and the sound of it made his cock twitch. 

Yeah, no, he had it bad.

“So where’d you get it?”

“Kink supply store,” said Ryan absently, “although I think they buy from the same people.”

“As the prisons?”

“Yeah.”

Shane was sitting at the foot of Ryan’s bed now, his hands on his knees, and he was looking awkward, but he was biting his lip.

His cheeks were pink, and so were his ears, and down towards his chest.

God, he was a full body blusher.

“So,” said Ryan, and he cleared his throat, “I’m, uh… I’m gonna cuff your wrists in front of you, and then I want to… I dunno, kiss you, give you a blowjob, shit like that.”

“So normal sex stuff, apart from the handcuffs?”

Shane looked remarkably blase about it.

“I guess?”

Adding the handcuffs made any normal sex stuff… that much more. 

It was a bit like suggesting that a hundred dollar burger and a patty off of the dollar menu at McDonalds were the same thing, since they were both ground beef and a bun.

“Do you, uh… do you want me to wear a condom?”

Shane looked faintly awkward, but these conversations were always faintly complicated.

“I’m, uh… I’m good if you are,” said Ryan, and he cleared his throat. “I don’t have anything.”

“Me neither,” said Shane, and then he held his wrists out, pressed together. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

Ryan stepped closer, and he licked his lips.

He was holding the handcuffs in both hands, and he opened them carefully, the bracelets lolling open like the mouths of some beast.

“I’ve got the keys in a tupperware container in my bedside table,” Ryan told Shane. 

“Why tupperware?”

“There’s so much detritus in my drawer, I didn’t want to lose them.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” 

Shane’s voice was very quiet.

“I do that occasionally,” Ryan said, and then he was placing the bracelet around Shane’s left wrist. 

“It’s cold,” said Shane.

Ryan looked down at Shane - Shane’s eyelashes were casting shadows across his cheeks, and the bedside light was gilding his face almost gold.

… this wasn’t exactly how Ryan would have imagined his first time with Shane, although he wasn’t sure how he would have imagined that in the first place.

“Ready?”

Ryan licked his lips.

His heart was beating very loudly in his ears. 

“Bring it on,” said Shane. 

Ryan closed the bracelet around Shane’s wrist.

It clicked. 

Ryan shuddered, and he pressed his knees together.

His cock was straining against his jeans, and his heart was beating very loudly in his ears.

“You ready for the next one?”

“I’m all ready,” he said, and he held out his other wrist.

Ryan carefully clicked it into place, around Shane’s bony wrist. 

“It’s cold,” Shane said, and his voice was still very quiet.

“Should I have warmed them up?”

“Is that a thing you can, like… do?”

“It is a thing you can do,” said Ryan, “although, by “thing you can do” you mean I put it down the back of your pants until your skin warms it up.”

“That’d be pretty mean,” said Shane. 

Ryan hooked his finger through the chain connecting the two bracelets, forcing Shane’s hands up towards him, and he leaned down, so that he was nose to nose with Shane.

“I can be pretty mean,” he told Shane. “When I want to be, I mean.”

“Evidently,” said Shane. 

They were close enough that Shane’s lips were moving against Ryan’s. 

“Do you want me to be?”

“Maybe, like, medium mean,” said Shane. “I can take a given amount of mean.” 

“Medium mean,” said Ryan. “I think I can do that.”

Shane turned his face up, and Ryan leaned forward, kissing Shane on the mouth.

It was a sweet, soft kiss, and it was made all the better by the way that Shane’s hands were forced between them.

Shane was holding on to Ryan’s shirt, and when Ryan looked down, he could see the handcuffs, shiny and silver against Shane’s skin. 

“Oh,” said Ryan, and then he kissed Shane again, harder this time, his tongue sweeping across Shane’s mouth, his hands going up Shane’s arms, to Shane’s shoulders.

He pulled back, and he put his hands on Shane’s chest, giving it a squeeze.

… it wasn’t that he lacked experience with men, per se.

He just had much _more_ experience with women, and it was a little weird, to be holding on to a flat chest instead of soft breasts.

Maybe it was aided by how goddamn bony Shane was.

Still, Shane thrashed, yanking at the handcuffs, and his hips rolling forward when Ryan’s thumbs pressed against his nipples.

“Oh,” Shane said, and his voice was rough. “Yeah, I, uh… I like that.”

“Do you?”

Ryan grasped a nipple between two fingers, and he pinched them, twisting, just a little bit. 

Just enough to make Shane throw his head back, his mouth falling open. 

Ryan kept his eyes on Shane’s face, twisting Shane’s nipples, occasionally glancing down to look at the handcuffs still encircling Shane’s wrists.

“You could sit in my lap,” Shane said, in a slightly too casual tone of voice.

“Do you want me to sit in your lap?”

Ryan leaned down, and he kissed along Shane’s neck, gently, carefully, his fingers still moving along Shane’s nipples, twisting, tweaking, pinching. 

“I do indeed,” said Shane, and his voice cracked. “Want you to sit in my lap.”

Ryan straddled Shane, and he draped his arms over Shane’s shoulders, his forehead against Shane’s, Shane’s hands still pressed together against Ryan’s chest, clutching at Ryan’s shirt. 

The metal was cold against Ryan’s fingers. 

“You’re very warm,” Shane said, and his voice cracked. 

“Well, of course I’m warm,” said Ryan. “I’m fully dressed. You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“Now whose fault was that?”

Shane’s voice was teasing. 

“You did agree to take your shirt off,” Ryan pointed out, as his hands ran along Shane’s back, stroking along the knobs of Shane’s spine, tracing the odd curve of Shane’s shoulder blade.

Shane shuddered, his hips rolling forward, and Ryan held on, his knees digging into Shane’s sides to keep from falling off. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

Shane’s tone of voice was just...thoughtful. 

Fuck, it was hard to make him lose his cool for more than a seconds?

Ryan needed to find out.

“Yep,” said Ryan. “And now you can’t put it back on.”

Ryan rattled the handcuffs, because he could, and it sent a jolt of arousal right through him, his cock throbbing in time with his heart. 

“I can’t, huh?”

“Not without taking the handcuffs off,” said Ryan, and his cock gave another twitch.

Wow.

At least he was coming to terms with being a fetishist, right?

… who was he kidding, he’d come to terms with it a long time ago. 

But right now he had Shane right up against him, cuffed up… the only thing that would make it better would be ever more chains. 

Everything was better with more chains.

He brought his hands up, burying one hand in Shane’s hair, cradling the back of Shane’s skull.

The other hand went between them once again, squeezing Shane’s fingers, then moving between the two of them, squeezing Shane’s cock through his chinos. 

Shane’s face opened up like a flower in the sun, his mouth wide, his eyes sliding shut, his head thrown back.

It was undignified, completely without guile, and it was making Ryan feel things in his chest, in his stomach, in his dick.

God, what did he want more than anything else right now? 

Even he wasn’t sure. 

Did he want to ride Shane’s dick? Suck it? Fuck Shane? Have Shane suck him off?

He brought his hand around, and he squeezed Shane’s wrist, his finger resting on the handcuffs. 

He slid a finger under the bracelet, and Shane’s pulse thundered under Ryan’s finger. 

“Please,” said Shane, and he was squirming, his cock hard and needy in his pants, humping into the warm heaviness of Ryan’s body.

“You must want it really badly,” said Ryan. “You want me to just take you, when you can’t use your hands?”

“I can use my hands,” said Shane, and he gave Ryan an awkward shove with his bound hands, but Ryan held on.

“Go scratch your back,” he told Shane, leaning back and balancing awkwardly on Shane’s thighs.

“You’re a jerk,” Shane said.

“Only a medium jerk,” Ryan reminded him.

“You wanna medium jerk me off?”

Shane waggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx, and Ryan groaned.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” said Ryan. “You might have killed my ability to get a boner, like, ever.”

“You said that earlier,” said Shane, “and yet, here you are, boner in your jeans. So I can’t take your word when it comes to boners.”

“Oh no,” said Ryan. “What, you’ll have to test the authenticity of your boners?”

“Something like that,” said Shane, and he clumsily groped between Ryan’s legs with his bound hands, squeezing Ryan’s erection.

Ryan’s hips rolled forward, and he ground his cock into the palm of Shane’s hand, reveling in the awkward movements, reveling in the look on Shane’s face.

This was one of the things he loved about handcuffs - the way it made someone gawky and awkward, but they still tried.

Half the time he didn’t fit into his own skin right, and seemed to be tripping over his own feet, or had hands that were too big.

Having a partner so impeded made him feel that much… stronger, that much more graceful. Alternately, when he was the one who was impaired, well… it was only proving the insecurities in his head, right? There was something comforting about that, about giving in to the obnoxious voices in the back of his head, submitting in every sense of the word. 

… maybe there was something a bit messed up about that, but he wasn’t going to think too hard into it.

“Maybe you should jerk me off,” Ryan countered. 

“Do you want me to?”

Shane licked his lips, and they were still red and swollen, shiny.

Ryan, of course, had to lean in and kiss him, right there and then, because, well… who could resist that temptation?

So he kissed Shane, with his tongue and his teeth, tasting the roof of Shane’s mouth, cradling Shane’s face in his own hands, exploring the insides of Shane’s cheeks with his tongue, the outside with his fingertips.

When they pulled apart, there was a little string of spit between the two of them, and he let it hang there, because Shane couldn’t wipe it off.

“God, you’re into this shit,” said Shane. “Like… super into it.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I dunno,” said Shane. “You struck me as… I dunno.”

“What _do_ you know, then?”

Ryan leaned forward, and he bit Shane’s shoulder, hard enough that Shane bellowed like a beast, his hands scrabbling at Ryan’s chest, scrabbling in the fabric of Ryan’s shirt.

“Fuck,” Shane mumbled.

“I know that you get really twitchy when I do that,” Ryan said, and it was his turn to sound cheerful. “Now… how about we get your dick out, hm?”

“I might have some trouble with that,” said Shane, and he rattled the handcuffs.

The rattle, of course, made Shane that much hornier, and he curled his toes, licking his lips. 

Fuck. 

_Fuck_ , this was a thing that was actually happening, and some part of him still couldn’t get over that. 

“You don’t wanna try?”

“I’m just gonna admit that you’re better at getting dicks out of pants right now,” said Shane. “Sound like a plan?”

“I’m gonna make you admit it at some point,” said Ryan, as he carefully unbuttoned Shane’s pants, then unzipped them.

He slid his hand onto Shane’s cock, and he squeezed it through Shane’s boxers, appreciating the heat of it in his hand, the heft. 

“Fuck,” said Shane, and he shuddered. “Your hand… you have a very nice hand. I like it.”

“I’m pretty attached to it,” said Ryan. 

“Oh my god,” said Shane. “I cannot believe you made that joke.”

“Of course I made that joke,” said Ryan. “It was a good joke.”

He stroked Shane, from tip to root, and Shane moaned, his cock leaking pre-cum down his shaft, along Ryan’s hand. 

“You keep telling yourself that,” Shane mumbled, without much conviction.

“I’m sorry, do you want me to stop?”

Ryan made to move his hand, but Shane’s awkward grip on his wrist stopped him. 

“No, no,” Shane said. “No, sorry, it’s fine, I’m sorry.”

Ryan let go of Shane’s cock to unbuckle his own belt, shoving his jeans and boxers down in a wad of fabric.

“How about… how about you jerk me off, I’ll jerk you off?”

“Are you sure I can jerk you off, with these?”

Another handcuff rattle, and Ryan bit his lip, his bare cock twitching in the air.

He pressed closer, until they were dick to dick, kissing Shane.

Shane’s hands were trapped between them, the metal digging into Ryan’s stomach, then shoving Ryan’s shirt up, to put his bare hands on Ryan’s bare belly.

Ryan pressed their cocks together, wrapped his hand around the two cocks, and he rolled his hips forward.

“Oh,” Shane said, and his voice cracked. “Oh, fuck, Ry….”

“Yeah?”

Ryan pressed his forehead against Shane’s, and they were nose to nose, breathing each other’s breath. 

Shane’s eyes were dark, and Shane was trembling, holding on tightly to Ryan’s shirt with his handcuffed hands.

“It feels so good,” said Shane. “Fuck, you… you shouldn’t be so good at this, what the fuck, Ryan.”

“Why not?”

“You give off… you give off a very straight dude vibe,” said Shane, and he chuckled breathlessly, the handcuffs rattling as Shane reached down, his own long fingers wrapping around Ryan’s own.

They were jerking off together now, and the chain of the handcuffs was right up against Ryan’s wrist, and Shane was panting against Ryan’s face, his breath hot, misty.

Shane’s cock was hot and silky against Ryan’s, his hands dry, but slicking up quickly with their combined pre-cum.

The handcuffs were warm, right up against Ryan’s skin, and one of Ryan’s fingers was tracing along the bracelet of the handcuffs, sliding under them, where Shane’s skin was sweaty.

“I’m gonna be all bruised up,” Shane said.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ryan said, and his cock twitched like a tuning fork. 

Shane with handcuff bruises in his wrists, having to wear long sleeves to work, Ryan sitting next to him, knowing he could lean over and dig his fingers into the purple bruises, and they’d just _be_ there, oh god….

The orgasm was a bit like getting hit in the back of the head with a sock full of batteries.

He tasted pennies - oh, wait, no, he was biting Shane’s shoulder. 

Yeah, that would do it.

He could smell the sharpness of Shane’s sweat, and the sweetness rolled over him like a wave, leaving him limp, as his cock spat cum across Shane’s hand, across his own.

Across the handcuffs.

His cock was pulsing, and there was so much cum drooling out of him, his cock still twitching, and he was panting on Shane’s face.

Shane moaned, and he was using Ryan’s cum as lube, jerking off faster, beginning to go stiff, the handcuffs clinking faster.

“Fuck, Ryan, Ryan, I….”

Ryan kissed Shane, and he swallowed down the sounds of Shane’s orgasm, as Shane’s cock pulsed in his hands, and Shane’s hands twitched rhythmically against his own.

“Oh god,” mumbled Shane, and he flopped against Ryan, nuzzling into Ryan’s neck.

“Holy fuck,” said Shane. “I didn’t know you could have that much fun with handcuffs.”

“You’d be amazed at all the things you can do with handcuffs,” Ryan said, and he didn’t even try to keep the smugness out of his voice.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Shane said, “but can you take them off now, please?”

“Right,” said Ryan, and he leaned over awkwardly, to grab the keys. 

“Next time, I want to put you in cuffs,” said Shane, and there was a bit of a tentative note to his voice. 

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ryan, and his stomach did an awkward little flip.

“But first… uncuff me?”

“Right,” said Ryan, although he rubbed a little bit of cum into the handcuff bracelet, before reaching out to the bedside drawer.

The keys were in the little tupperware container, and he opened it carefully, found the right key, and unlocked Shane.

The click of them opening was almost as lovely as the click of them closing - it sounded like a promise.

Maybe Ryan was reading too into things, but… well, judging by the way Shane was looking at him, the two of them were on the same level.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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